Armored Core: Recurrence
by Mr. Inertia
Summary: An ongoing story that details the lives of several Ravens. Set during and after AC: Nexus. Please R&R. [UPDATE 15 August: 4th Chapter up!]
1. Chapter 0: Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own Armored Core or any canon material related to it. I do, however, own any original characters that appear in this story.

**Armored Core: ****Recurrence**

_by Mr. Inertia_

**Prologue**

_Thud._

Such a word could hardly describe the immense, overpowering sound of the Armored Core's fall. The massive, bipedal machine, burnt out from the inside like a seed husk, managed to inflict deep cracks in the rocky ground which it fell upon, its jutting shoulder impacting first before it rolled lifelessly onto its stomach, causing another chain-reaction of structural damage to the plateau. Its chassis, once a vivid orange, now resembled something of a burnt pumpkin as black smoke escaped and billowed from wherever it could. The column of acrid smoke was like a beacon to the dead pilot's partner. That particular partner had very well seen exactly what had happened, though…

The remaining two ACs on the dusk-dimmed plateau remained completely still, as both Ravens waited for the other to make a move. The bipedal one, sheathed in an odd paintjob of browns, greys and black, still stood by the destroyed AC's remains, the glinting muzzle of its rifle still smoking quietly.

The silence was broken moments later by the crackle of the bipedal AC's external speakers coming online. The voice that boomed across the plateau afterwards had an unnervingly calm tone to it. _**"Well…? You came here to kill me, didn't you? Finish what your friend here failed to do."**_

The silhouette of the other, quadruped Armored Core lunged out of the shadows as soon as the words had been said, back-boosters illuminating its dark-gold body. With a warble of energy, an angel-blue shaft of light sprung from the laserblade affixed to its left arm, its glow washing over one side of the spider-like AC and tinting it an eerie green. The pilot said nothing, but every movement of his machine spoke the words 'blinding rage'.

The brown-and-grey remained still as its opponent tore up the ground between them, watching absently with its pale-green optic lens. As the distance between the two became mere meters, the biped sprung into lightning-fast, fluid action, driving its left arm forward and contracting at the elbow. At the very last moment, the virulent green of its own laserblade hummed to life in a course of interception, meeting the quadruped's swinging blade with a violent crackle. The biped's boosters screamed into action as well, matching the four-legged machine's boost power as both tried to force the other backwards.

As the two stood in the dark, pushing against each other with their shimmering, crackling weapons, the pilot of the dark-gold machine suddenly remembered the weapon mounted on its shoulder. Before he could level it at his nemesis, however, the barrel of a certain rifle was thrust in his AC's face. That certain rifle was the rifle that had killed his partner.

"_**I'd have corrected you on some primal errors that you made, but I didn't think it would really help,"**_The bipedal AC's pilot spoke again. The rifle primed with a grim _click_. _**"…Seeing as you won't have a chance to right those errors."**_

The Raven in the Quadruped still said nothing.

Somehow, the bipedal AC managed to shrug, before pulling the trigger.


	2. Chapter 1: Inverse

"_Raven ID confirmed."_

The man known to his colleagues as Inverse smiled contentedly as he drew the ID plate on his wrist away from the wall-mounted scanner, flexing his gloved fingers out absently. As the smooth, glinting form of the automated door slid away to give him access to the corridor beyond, he casually ran his fingers over the dark-tinted pilot helmet that he cradled in both hands.

Unlike during a few days in the past week, he was completely devoid of deadlines or commitments. For once, he could actually _relax_ and forget about his job for a few hours. For Inverse, this was a rare occasion. Pressure, unplanned-for contingencies and troublesome life-or-death decisions were like morning coffee for the man.

Stepping through the doorway, sunlight immediately glimmered through the transparent walls of the long corridor and washed over his midnight-blue fibre suit with its white-yellow light. The weather was pleasant for the first time in days as well… another good aspect, Inverse noted as he strolled down the empty passageway

So far, it had been a good day.

The thirty year-old Raven stopped as he reached the end of the sunlit corridor, and after shoving his helmet into a small locker built into the wall he turned to his possible exits. He was faced with the choice of two doorways. One led to the sleeping quarters- after an all-night mission, it seemed welcoming- and the other led indirectly to the Ravens' Common Room. He took a moment, as he often did these days, to think about the absurdity of such a name for what actually went on in there. Part cafeteria, part war-room… not a lot of common ground was found in that place, actually. Most Ravens had nothing much in common, besides their occupations.

Another function was the PDA slot on the far wall. Before it was used to download global news, but it had quickly been modified for new pilots to accept public mission requests. While Inverse was far beyond the days of being new to the game, it was still amusing to watch all the current newbies rush to accept whatever assignments before the others.

His smile twisted slightly as he thought of it, removing his own PDA from his fibre suit's belt as he took the doorway to the Common Room. Using one hand while he walked down a set of enclosed corridors, he absently flicked through the private mission requests sitting in his inbox. Most involved inane objectives, such as attacking corporate military installations or disrupting MT convoys. Typically, most major corporations these days simply believed in the old 'might makes right' adage. The need for ACs or Ravens was a very good example thereof.

Inverse looked up, his dark eyes flitting to Common Room door, only meters away. It wasn't closed… a figure stood still in the doorframe, hands at its sides as two stone-grey eyes stared disdainfully out at him. He didn't even need to note the cropped, premature-grey hair, the dull-silver fibre suit or the unnaturally empty-looking, left middle-finger of the suit. Those damn _eyes_ just said it all.

"Morning, old friend," Inverse greeted the figure, clipping his PDA back and letting his hands fall passively to his sides. A few moments of supposedly awkward silence followed, completely ineffectual to the man as the tiniest traces of a smile became more and more prominent with each passing second.

"…Excuse me," Lithium grated, moving past Inverse without looking back. The man's voice was like two metal sheets being scraped together.

"Enjoy your day," Inverse muttered under his breath, before taking a step to enter the Common Room. Instantly, he felt comfortable in the very large, very familiar room as soft computer-generated music shimmered on the edges of his hearing and his eyes adjusted to the dim, slightly smoky light.

…And then, as if on cue, all hell broke loose at the PDA slot, including the usual derogatory phrases being tossed about.

"Piss off!"

"I got this one, pansy!"

"Get away from that damn slot!"

"Screw all of ya! I saw it first!"

Inverse sighed deeply, reaching up to ruffle his chestnut hair back into its normally comfortable, messy style. Casting a sidelong glance to the rest of the room, he could see a few of the more established Ravens sitting at the bar or the booths, trying their best to ignore the mob of newbies as they went about their business. Some were making some noise of their own, arguing over the events of recent missions or how they would go about completing an upcoming one.

But these new ones… Christ, they were just something _else_. Seeing as they were all brawling each other down to cram their PDAs into the shallow, plastic-ringed slot, a random mission must have been thrown out on the public roster for these kids to snap up.

"Typical…" The blue-suited Raven muttered, before stalking off to his regular booth. Already, he could see the plainclothes-attired forms of two of his closest allies occupying a pair of seats; The shortish, slant-eyed man known as Impulse and the large, muscle-bound one being Impasse.

As he reached the booth, however, an unfamiliar presence occupied the seat beside Impasse. Very average body structure. Young, intelligent-looking face and eyes. A head of long, uncropped blonde hair.

"Okay, who's this?" Inverse asked without tact, looking from Impasse to the newcomer and pointing at him with one half-raised hand.

"Him?" Impasse said with a smile, clapping a hand on the blonde man's shoulder. His voice was as deep and resonant as ever. "He's my Newt. Goes by the name of Lightwave."

"Your Newt, eh?" Inverse grinned. A Newt was a term used for a new Raven who a more experienced pilot took on as an informal apprentice. "I've been meaning to get _me_ one of those, recently."

The boy smiled uncertainly, obviously still wary of the three and what their intentions were. Generally speaking, the three probably weren't going to make a fuss out of any of this. Well, probably not. He knew very well that Impulse inadvertently pulled rank on newbies at the worst times.

"Nice to meet you," Inverse nodded at Lightwave, before taking his seat on the grey-upholstered, springy cushioning of the booth. His attention immediately wandered back to the escalating turbulence around the PDA slot. "Hey, anyone know what the newbies are throwing down over?"

Impasse shrugged, reminding Inverse that the big man never carried his PDA on him. Impulse seemed not to hear him, suddenly preoccupied with an AC blueprint spread out in front of him. Dark eyes shifting back to directly in front of him, Inverse was slightly startled by the PDA held a few inches from his face by Lightwave.

"I think it's this one… sir," The young man began, scratching his mop of vibrant-blonde hair with his free hand. The _sir_ bit was a little strange, but Inverse decided to let it slide. "It's the only one on the public request roster right now."

Inverse squinted slightly, and began reading.

_**RAID SUPPLY CONVOY**_

**TIME: **03/06/-- 11h40

**CLIENT: **Mirage

**AREA OF OPERATIONS: **East Ghiras Desert

**REWARD: **22000C

**OBJECTIVES: **Destroy all five 5 supply trucks in convoy.

**ENCOUNTER: **6-10 Walker-type MTs

_Further information will be provided upon accepting mission_.

"…They're fighting over _this_? I mean, geeze, I haven't raided a convoy in years," Inverse narrowed his eyes, leaning back against the booth's wall. A wry smile worked its way across his lips as he recalled old memories. "Hey, guys, remember that one convoy mission we all took from Zio Matrix, when we all first started in the business?"

Impulse looked up immediately, grinning. "The one with all those…"

"Oh, _yeah_," Impasse acknowledged, the infectious smile going to his expression, too.

"And then we had to-"

"We shot down those-"

"But then you went and-"

"Ah crap, that's _right_!"

At Impulse's final exclamation, the three burst into raucous laughter, leaving Lightwave to wonder what the hell they were all on about. The three had remembered the event so well that they didn't even need to recite the crucial parts… it all just came back to them in one hilarious torrent of recall. Of course, they'd probably be the only people ever to be in on that particular joke; some things were meant to be that way, in any case.

"Yeah, I couldn't hear you yelling over my sound system back then," Impulse admitted to Impasse, somewhat more recovered as he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. His lips twisted slightly as he restrained another round of mirth. "Fun times…"

Inverse sat up suddenly, his face serious again in an instant as he looked towards the new guy. "Hey, are there any slotted-in Ravens in this mission?"

"Uh… yes, there is one guy," Lightwave nodded, eyes scanning the text on his PDA. "A first-timer called Zwei. Why do you ask?"

There were a few short-lived moments of silence, as Inverse slowly looked towards the PDA slot and the ongoing melee around it. Impasse and Impulse had learnt that it was better not to say anything during this particular kind of silence.

"No reason," Inverse almost growled the reply, standing up immediately. His two friends were pretending that nothing was happening, which was possibly the best course of action to take. "Those newbie morons want to louse up some super-newbie's first run. Damned if I'll let them."

"What are you going to do?" Lightwave asked, a puzzled look on his young face. He had already pocketed his PDA.

"I'm going to take the mission myself, that's what," The blue-suited Raven responded, before leaving the booth and walking calmly towards the overcrowded slot. PDA in one gloved hand, he raised both arms to try and halt the ensuing brawl; naturally, it had no effect. Inverse sighed. "Can I have your attention, please!"

A few stopped and looked quizzically at him, which gave one of the newbies closer to the wall a half-second to lunge forward and jam his PDA in the slot with a triumphant "Ha!". Inverse narrowed his eyes and tapped a few times on the screen of his PDA without looking at it. The LED light on the PDA slot turned an angry red, and instantly spat the apparent victor's device out.

"What? What the hell just happened?!" The young man wheeled around with his rejected PDA in one hand, obviously suspecting one of the others of sabotage. Inverse grinned as they made eye-contact with each other.

"I was going to ask nicely to forfeit your mission acceptances, but it seemed that some of your guys have yet to grow a sense of hearing," The thirty-year old pilot shrugged, clipping his PDA back onto his belt. "I just pulled rank and directly accepted the mission, that's all."

The mood from the cluster of new Ravens began to grow more and more sinister as the words sunk in; already, a few of the more established pilots who knew Inverse were readying themselves to go to his defence. After untangling themselves from fighting with each other, the dozen-odd young hotheads formed a menacing line in front of Inverse, who simply stood with a wry grin and his hands at his sides.

"You guys are going to go to this trouble, just for a twenty-two G mission?"

"Oh yeah," The newbie with the rejected PDA said, nodding once. "You should know better than to mess with other people's business."

As if out of nowhere, Impasse's resonant voice sounded right by Inverse's ear. "And _you_ should know better than to pick a fight with a top-level Raven, ya freakin' stupid nugget."

It was uncanny. Not even the line of newbies had noticed the cohort of slightly older, much more experienced Ravens lining up behind Inverse. It was strange, how Inverse had very few enemies in the Ravens' Ark despite his incredibly violent track record. Sometimes, it almost seemed as if _every_ Raven who knew him would come to his aid if he needed it.

He lifted his wrist, eyes scanning across the digital watch inlaid in his fibre suit. His eyebrows rose for a moment. "Hot damn, that convoy's going past in two hours…" He turned to Impasse. "Can you take over for this one, man?"

"No problem," The brutishly-built Raven rumbled, as Inverse nodded and made off towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye, the blue-suited pilot watched as Impasse took a few exaggerated strides towards the now-very-afraid line of newbies and stared at them face-to-face for several seconds.

"Boo," Impasse said flatly. Despite Inverse already closing the door behind him, he could hear the collective slam of the newbies' backs hitting the walls in fright. He stifled a laugh as he began to jog down the corridor, fibre suit creaking slightly as he moved. He had work to do, if he wanted to get to the mission venue on time.

"Zwei, eh?" Inverse repeated the nugget's name, taking a course towards the AC garage. "Not a bad name… for a nugget, at least."


	3. Chapter 2: Zwei

**Armored Core: Recurrence**

_by Mr. Inertia_

**Chapter 2: Zwei**

_East Ghiras Desert ; 03/06 ; 11h32_

Somewhere on the sands, the convoy moved. A line of otherwise harmless supply trucks, all in perfect sequence moved along the desert, carrying their secretive cache of heaven-knew-what. The reason that they weren't harmless, however, was because a set of six WALKER and four additional WALKER2 MTs flanked the precious line of trucks, ready to defend their charges at any cost. To most militaries, it was not a convoy that was likely to fall under attack.

However, most corporations were arrogant as it came to fortune. Most decided to chance their luck on such missions, disregarding the chance for the wild-cards of the battlefield to show up and wreak havoc. Despite the alarming frequency in which they turned up in the past, corporations hardly decided to take countermeasures for the off-chance that they _did _occur in a skirmish.

In short, the corporations hardly ever planned for the intervention of a Raven.

----------

Somewhere in the sky, a heli-transport soared.

"_Are you sure you're ready for this, Raven?"_

There was a pause on the comm. line, as the young man who had been addressed as 'Raven' hesitated. Yes, he _was _ready for the mission. He'd spent more than enough time in the simulators to ensure that he could at least aim a gun straight. On the other hand, so many small factors and inconveniences that he _wasn't_ ready for, were beginning to build up and distract him.

The enclosed confines of the cockpit were still annoying, but he'd already felt that to some degree in the simulator pods. Other than that, everything immediate to his environment was very new to him. The standard-issue, mediocre quality pilot suit he wore was no comfort; he couldn't shake the feeling that it was like some parasitic organism that desperately clung to his body. The pilot helmet that encased his head uncomfortably flattened his spiked hair and quickly became annoying to see through, with the dark ends of his visor creeping into the edge of his vision. And as if to finalize that being in an AC cockpit was not fun, his seatbelt had been adjusted too tight. In total, it created one hell of an annoying effect… one that the young Raven couldn't allow to get to him.

"Yes, I'm sure I'm ready," He finally responded to his operator, gripping the controls firmly.

Only days ago, he had gone by the name of Wolfram Ziechte. He had come from a long line of traditionalists, whose customs and ways dated back to before the Great Destruction. Besides the basic English which everyone spoke these days, he had been taught to speak a centuries-old language that his parents and their generation referred to as _Deutsch_. It was the only way in which he could speak his mind without fear of being overheard; only a few hundred other people on the planet could speak the language, apparently. His family line had all been instilled in healthy doses of paranoia from youth.

He was no longer Wolfram now, however. He was Zwei. The number two in _Deutsch_… signifying a more refined version of himself, a better version. He was a sort of 'Wolfram Mk.2', and at the same time he wasn't Wolfram at all anymore.

"_Raven, you're almost at the drop-point," _His operator's voice filled his headset, drowning out the soft rumble of his AC and the transport flying at high speed. _"The convoy will be moving about five-hundred meters from where you'll land."_

"Roger," Zwei responded in his lightly accented voice, inhaling deeply. It was just a couple of Walker MTs down there, nothing more. The actual convoy trucks had no defenses, so at least his known threats were clear-cut. Reaching out into the darkness, he flipped a switch to activate his idle AC's optics. The cockpit lighted up from the front as the rectangular monitor in front of him buzzed to life and let Zwei watch through the eyes of his machine. Blue skies filled the screen, washing over him with angel-blue light.

The Raven's headset crackled suddenly, as a new frequency established itself. It was the transport pilot speaking. _"Raven, releasing clamps in three… two… one…"_

Zwei was hoping for a 'zero' count, but was instead faced with two simultaneous _clunks_, as the shoulder-clamps that held his AC to the transport gave way and sent his machine plummeting. As the sensation of falling crept its way into the pit of his stomach, Zwei hit the thrusters of his stock-standard AC, its grey chassis lighting up against the bright orange of its back-boosters. His dark-blue eyes focusing on the monitor, Zwei could see the massive expanse of desert which waited below, a bright brown-yellow in the midday sun.

The grey, angular AC touched down on the sands, burning them a smoky black with its boosters before Zwei deactivated them. Immediately, a large blue box created a frame inside his monitor, indicating the dimensions of the target-box. It wasn't a very grand size, but that was only expected from a starting-package AC. The equipped weapons seemed somewhat pathetic as well… a single-shot rifle and a low-megawatt laserblade. Zwei regretted having neglected to check his AC statistics before heading out. He glanced down at his structural report screen to check everything was okay, and-

"_**Hey, kid. I'm glad you got down here in one piece."**_

Zwei tensed in astonishment at the sudden, unexpected words that filtered over his external audio, spinning his AC on one heel as his eyes flitted to his radar screen. One unknown heat source, twenty meters away and almost directly behind him. Without even registering what the metallic figure that stood on the dunes behind him actually was, he raised his standard-issue AC's rifle-arm as soon as the crosshairs turned red on his monitor. He was snapped back to reality, though, when he noticed that the machine was already pointing a rifle of its own towards him, and a much bigger one at that. To add to that, it seemed to carelessly hold a weapon resembling a sawed-off shotgun in its left hand. There was no doubt: it was another Armored Core.

"**Who the hell are you?!"** Zwei demanded through his external speakers, his right index finger curling around the joystick trigger. **"What are you doing here?"**

"_**Itchy trigger-finger? Don't worry, I'm not your enemy,"**_The voice emanated from the unknown AC, ignoring Zwei's demands somewhat. The young Raven noticed the smoothed-out biped's rich, midnight-blue colour scheme. _**"I'm here to observe your first run and make sure you don't get into any real trouble."**_

Zwei kept his rifle trained, although the unfamiliar pilot didn't sound as if he was going to open fire on him. **"Why the raised gun, then?"**

"_**Nuggets do stupid things on their first run, believe me. Think of this as insurance,"**_The blue AC walked forward, lowering its large, boxy rifle. A crimson monoeye, mounted below a curving head-crest, watched his machine with an unnerving scrutiny, as if the AC itself was ordering Zwei to lower his own rifle. _**"By the way, you're not going to last long with a gun like that. You might as well drop that piece of crap and use this instead…"**_

With its free hand, the sleek AC pulled a gun-shaped object from a shoulder-rack and tossed it on the sand between itself and Zwei's. Angling his AC's head down, Zwei noted its large, angular shape and overly long handle; he could only guess it was a kind of machinegun. His AC's optic-band looked down at the machinegun, then up at the blue AC and back to the proffered gun again.

"_**Just pick it up, kid. It's not a bomb or anything," **_The unknown Raven sighed, before his AC turned sharply to its left. _**"That convoy's going to be here in a few minutes, see? It wouldn't be very impressive if you missed it."**_

Zwei sighed, casting his old rifle to the side and kneeling his machine down to pick up the new weapon. As his system recalibrated itself to function with the new gun, the young Raven decided to ask his original question again, over the internal comm. line. "…Who are you? Are you a registered Raven?"

There was a pause, and then a click as the other Raven switched to the internal comm. channel as well. _"I'm registered, don't worry. My name, however, is reserved until _after_ you finish this mission." _A streak of white reflection ran down the midnight-blue body of his AC. _"My AC's name is Guyver, though."_

Zwei wanted to know what the hell 'Guyver' meant, but decided not to ask. The way that the pilot had guarded his name, it seemed like a lucky strike to have gotten his AC's name from him at all. His gaze flitted down to his radar screen for a moment. "Uh, I think the convoy's here."

Immediately, there was a scream of thrusters and a flare of white, as AC Guyver crouched down and leapt, taking to the sky. His flight path over the dune ahead was smooth and fast; the pilot seemed to know what he was doing. Zwei hit his own thrusters, angling them laterally as his grey AC boosted across the shifting sands, gun-arm raised to shoot. He was slightly disheartened, however, when his apparent ally landed on the top of the dune and stood still, even as Zwei boosted past him. "What are you-?"

"_This is an observation mission for me, kid. I'm only allowed to watch and make sure that you follow mission details."_

"My operator can do that…" Zwei muttered darkly, as he began descending down the side of the dune. The convoy was already on its way, with only the tail-end within range. He'd have to work fast. Two standard WALKER type MTs at the back of the convoy had turned, guns and missile-pods trained on him.

"_True, but what your operator _can't_ do is pull your ass out of the fire when unexpected things start taking shape during the mission."_

"Touché," Zwei said with a soft chuckle, pulling the joysticks sideways. As if on rote, the MTs fired several barrages of missiles that flew up along the dunes, throwing up dust in their curved wakes. Having expected the attack seconds ago, Zwei quickly flipped his thrusters sideways and boosted off again, skimming clear of the incoming barrage by a few meters. Zwei loved that maneuver, even if it _did_ cut close sometimes.

"_That's a risky damn thing to do in a deathtrap AC like that…" _The observing Raven admonished, as the missiles hit the dunes and sprayed sand across Zwei's mecha, lightly tinting the chassis a golden-brown.

"Yeah, just about everything's risky in this thing," Zwei shot back, adrenaline beginning to fuel his senses. He was only half-concentrating on what his apparent ally had to say, focusing the bulk of his attention on the MTs. As his AC turned to face them again, still strafing with its thrusters, both of the MTs that fired the missiles fell within the target-box. The rightmost one came under the bright red of the crosshairs first, though. "Let's see if this gun is worth using, now…"

As his gloved index finger convulsed on the joystick trigger, the large gun immediately spat a torrent of lead from its muzzle, flying in a generally accurate arc towards Zwei's quarry. He kept up the fire as he boosted sideways, turning his machine a few degrees every second to keep the MT within his target box. Almost instantly, the reverse-legged mecha buckled and shuddered under the pressure of the unending flood of bullets, sparking and hissing with smoke as it finally toppled over and lay still. Without hesitation, Zwei turned his thrusters to advance in on the second one, priming his AC's machinegun again…

_CRASH. _Zwei's world rocked and trembled in a blur of shock for a moment, as _something_ hit him with full-force from the left. Without bothering to check his structural screens or even turning his AC's head to see what had happened, the young Raven redoubled his efforts to destroy the second WALKER MT he had targeted, now heading on a direct course for it. Letting loose another rattling spray of gunfire, the blue-grey machine fell prey to some kind of internal explosion, before exploding completely. Zwei grinned in the secrecy of his helmet, before skidding to a halt a few dozen meters from the convoy. Almost all the remaining MTs were closely flanking the line of trucks, and almost as one entity they all turned their attention to him.

"_Kid, you need to broaden your perspective," _The voice of Guyver's pilot crackled in again. _"Only an idiot narrows his focus to a few opponents when he's surrounded by a whole lot more of them. You just got hit by something that isn't even part of the convoy-"_

"I know that. I'll deal with it," Zwei snapped, knitting his brow as he thrust the machinegun forward and fired, sweeping it across the rear-end of the convoy as his machine ran forward to catch up with it.

The two WALKERs only took what seemed to be light damage from the generalized volley of bullets, and retaliated by firing the main cannon mounted on their heads. Zwei grunted as his cockpit rocked slightly from the shots, ignoring the warning flashes of armour damage as he engaged his thrusters again. Drawing both of his AC's arms to chest-height, he boosted into melee range with the WALKER; the reverse-legged MT tried to fire its gun again, but the shot whizzed over Zwei's AC's shoulder.

The shot was met by a hefty response on Zwei's part. As he came within striking distance, Zwei kept his thrusters going and swung his AC's right arm, bludgeoning the WALKER with the body of his machinegun. As the MT stumbled on its bird-like legs, a massive dent in its main body, Zwei clicked the left joystick-trigger, igniting the orange shaft of energy from his AC's left arm. Boosting past the unsteady MT's right, the grey Armored Core swept its laserblade like a scythe as it surged forward, slicing through the unprotected waist-shaft with ease; as the boxy AC finally forced its way past and spun to face its target again, the entire top-section of the WALKER spun off its mount and flew to the ground.

"Right, enough showing off…" Zwei breathed from within his helmet, bracing himself against his seat with an air of theatre. "These trucks need sorting out."

----------

"Huh," Inverse muttered, leaning back in his cockpit seat, arms crossed as he watched the new boy make his way through the convoy. When he wasn't trying to be stylish, this 'Zwei' guy could actually go at a task with incredible speed. Despite the restrictions of his incredibly basic AC slowing him down, he seemed to be adept at evasion. He hadn't taken a single shot from the MTs in the convoy, barring that strange shot that had randomly come from somewhere to the east.

Inverse sat up in his seat as the thought of the unknown attack crossed his mind, turning his AC's head eastwards. The red monoeye gleamed in the sun as it scanned the craggy area where Inverse thought the shot had come from, switching vision modes in case the unknown unit was camouflaged. Nothing turned up.

"I don't like this…" Inverse mumbled, quickly flicking Guyver's head back toward the convoy in time to see Zwei's AC kick down a WALKER2 and impale it with its laserblade. There was only a single truck left to destroy…

Suddenly, Inverse's radar screen flared up, bleeping frantically as the Raven glanced down. Something new had appeared on the screen… and as expected, it was situated to the east. Fully turning Guyver towards the distant rocky patch again, Inverse couldn't see a single machine there, despite his angrily-beeping radar.

…And then something stepped out from the rocks. It was coloured exactly like the terrain.

"Kid!" Inverse yelled into the comm. unit strapped to his shoulder, gripping the cockpit controls hurriedly. "Watch out!"

Zwei's grey AC stopped suddenly, left arm poised to slash the final supply truck. _"Huh? Why?"_

"Because there's an enemy AC headed towards you!"

Top of Form


	4. Chapter 3: Anomaly

**Armored Core: Recurrence**

_by Mr. Inertia_

**Chapter 3: Anomalous Presence**

_East Ghiras Desert ; 03/06 ; 11h41_

"_Because there's an enemy AC headed towards you!"_

"…What?" Zwei blurted out, astonished beyond coherent thought. Too stunned to look down at the radar screen at his side, he could distantly hear the device beeping desperately to him. The pilot of AC Guyver definitely wasn't joking… Zwei had been played for a fool many times before he became a Raven, and he could hear the man was serious. Despite the temporary halt of all his thought processes, the young Raven could still sense the honest urgency in his ally's voice.

The shock slowly turned to fear, which quickly turned to frustration.

Damn it! This was his first mission, his _first mission_, and an enemy AC was attacking? The MTs had been tough to fight through by themselves; he'd never last against an Armored Core with his current machine. This surely broke some kind of protocol. No first-timer ever had to fight another Raven, did he?

A grim thought struck Zwei, as he abruptly regained his senses again and whirled his boxy AC around: how many new Ravens didn't make it on their first run? The statistics were never released or even mentioned by the Ark, but surely that meant that there actually _were_ first-time fatalities. A nagging, creeping feeling inched into the young man's racing mind, rattling his thoughts with every passing second…

_Most first-timers who fail the initiation lose to enemy ACs. _There was no proof, but it was terrifyingly likely.

Still out of targeting range, the rapidly advancing machine's basic shape was far from that of Zwei's AC. A basic torso and a head could be made out, as the desert-camo mecha charged across the sands… but it lacked humanoid arms or even bipedal legs, for that matter. It seemed to float several meters off the ground, with a wedge-shaped, boat-like platform in place of legs. Instead of weapon-holding arms, it seemed that tapering guns were directly affixed to the shoulder-sockets of the machine. Zwei began to grow sceptical, narrowing his hazel eyes from behind his helmet visor.

"What makes you think this is an AC…?" The young Raven asked cynically, his comm. frequency connected to AC Guyver. A moment later, the angular red crosshairs popped up, trained on the alleged AC that hurtled towards Zwei. Before Zwei could pull the trigger, however, some primal instinct told to him to get out of the way. It was only after his grey machine stumbled heavily to the left, an intensely bright light passing off to the right, that the young man realised exactly _what _he'd just evaded.

**--Energy Weapon Damage Detected …… ERROR With Right Hand Response System--**

Zwei narrowed his eyes as he wrangled his AC back to a stable position, angling his thrusters for lateral boosting. Of _course_ there was an error with the right hand's response system. According to the structural screen, the entire right hand including the weapon was blown off. Whatever that attack had been, it was far past MT calibre.

"_Do you believe me now?" _The Guyver's pilot asked wearily. He was beginning to get on Zwei's nerves.

"_Jawohl_," Zwei muttered in _Deutsch_, engaging his boosters as he took off in a wheeling strafe, attempting to circle around the approaching AC. If he could get into its rear-arc fast, maybe he could close to within melee range. He did, after all, only have his laserblade left…

The plan was met with swift interception, though, as the desert-coloured AC whipped around on its floating base, arms angled down as it primed a menacing shoulder-gun towards Zwei and his AC. As the gun let loose a lancing column of white light, Zwei realised that this was the gun that had taken off his right hand; at the time, instinct had taken over and had simply concentrated on getting Zwei out of the way. But this time, the young man was on his guard, and as the shot began to leave the gun-barrel his reflexes kicked in. The sand-sprayed, basic machine flipped its boosters and blasted in the opposite direction that it was heading, narrowly evading the pure-white beam by inches.

"Heh," Zwei grinned, light from the cockpit monitor gleaming off his visor as he prepared for the next shot. To the young man's surprise it came only a fraction of a second after the previous beam, forcing him to raggedly boost to the side again. While his AC's torso was unharmed, its already-damaged right arm was almost melted off at the elbow now. "What kind of gun is that…?"

Within the following thirty seconds, the duel rapidly changed into a hard-and-fast bid for survival, as Zwei desperately moved his AC in and out of the paths of the white laser beams. Although no major damage happened all in one single blast, there was a gradual increment of red warning lights that began flickering in the cockpit, signifying all kinds of problems; his AC was being worn down with every slight hit. Despite his bad situation, though, Zwei was slowly making a concerted effort to get near to his opponent. His circling strafe became a zigzagging approach, each time creeping a few meters forward as he dodged left and right to escape death. The desert-camo AC that he was up against, on the other hand, seemed to simply float in one place and shoot. Very smug…

And then the firing stopped. Only about a hundred meters from his opponent, Zwei could see the bright-blue optic-band that seemed to watch his grey AC passively, as it lowered its gun arms. The young man's temper flared, convinced that the other pilot was making a fool of him.

"_Gott Verdammen_! Don't patronize me!" Zwei shouted, turning his thrusters up to full power and stamping on one footpedal to send his AC in a surging boost-charge towards the enemy Armored Core. His AC's undamaged left arm drew back at the command of the joystick in his hand, laserblade poised to ignite and slash. The boxy AC drew closer, closer…

Two identical, gunmetal objects suddenly folded over onto the floating desert-coloured AC's shoulders, glinting evilly in the glaring sunlight. It took a moment for Zwei to realize that they were dual chainguns, which startled him enough to stop his charge for an instant. That was all it took for the twin guns to start firing, however; dozens of hot bullets flew from the rotary-aligned barrels, hammering into his AC's angular chassis. His charge slowed, and then stopped as the combined force of the bullets staggered the two-legged machine, forcing its thrusters to finally give out as it began to stumble back from the overwhelming barrage. Zwei's cockpit rattled like an earthquake had struck, jarring the young Raven until he almost lost his grip on the controls…

…Almost. As the point-blank torrent of lead finally ceased with the slowing whir of the chainguns, Zwei wordlessly forced his shot-riddled AC to a stand, thrusting forward with whatever power it had left. Completely reckless about the state of his AC's generator, fuelled by a need to cause damage, Zwei threw his machine upon the now-retreating desert-camo AC, pulling it in with an awkward bearhug. As the energy-gauge flashed red on the side of his central monitor, Zwei ignited the orange blade on his machine's left arm, mindlessly plunging the shaft of destructive energy into whatever part of his opponent he saw. Even his cockpit screen was beginning to fuzz over with static from loss of energy, filled with red warning signals that the enraged Raven deftly ignored. If he was going to die, he'd take _something_ with him. All the while, the enemy AC thrashed and struggled and fired its thrusters to get away from the fervent grasp of Zwei's sparking, pummelled AC.

Zwei exhaled sharply as every light in the cockpit systematically died away, the young man still shaking with thoughtless anger. The cockpit jolted as his AC's joints lost power, setting into place with a kind of mechanical rigor-mortis. There was nothing but silence for a few moments, as Zwei was left to let his fury turn to despair while he sat in the dark. He hardly noticed the shudder as the enemy AC slowly pried itself loose. He didn't care about the violent crash as his AC tipped over and hit the ground in another cloud of sand.

"I guess that's it…" Zwei muttered, bringing both hands back over his shoulders as he felt for the seatbelt releases in the dark. Having freed himself from the constricting binds around his torso, he turned around and kneeled on his seat as he grasped the cockpit-hatch lever that was behind the headrest of his cockpit seat. With a half-hearted pull, the ceiling of the cockpit manually shunted itself open, blinding Zwei for a moment with the intense sunlight from above.

From there on, it was defeated silence as the young Raven climbed stiffly from the lifeless cockpit of his AC and onto its even more lifeless body. He kept his helmeted head down as he climbed up the surface of his fallen machine's shoulder, hardly thinking about his dangerous environment. He didn't stop until he finally hoisted his lean form onto the cracked plating of his AC's head, sitting on it as someone would sit at the edge of a river.

Zwei raised his head. There was a tremendous click as the desert-camo, cut up AC that loomed head of him primed its chainguns one last time, to turn Zwei into red mist. Apathetically, the Raven reached up and tugged off his helmet, revealing his features as he tossed the dark piece of headgear off the side of his AC. His identity was revealed. His handsome, sharp-featured face. His head of thickly spiked, ice-blue hair. His defiant hazel eyes, that stared into the blue optics of his attacker without a care in the world. For some reason, there was no whir of chainguns, no roar of flying bullets. Just the soft _vreeeeeeeeee_ of the desert-camo AC's floating platform. The enemy pilot was hesitating.

That ended quickly, as a flash of midnight-blue trailed across the edge of Zwei's vision. A second later, Zwei's ears were pummelled with sound as _something_ from the left fired a spray of titanic buckshot, slamming the enemy AC back several meters. Startled from the sudden explosion of noise, Zwei tumbled off the head of his AC, landing heavily on the shoulder of the downed mecha as he continued to roll. The young man managed to catch himself a moment before he dropped off the edge of the shoulder, steadying himself into a cautious crouch as he rubbed his bruised arm, looking up to see what had happened.

There was another blast of spread-shot ammo, smashing into the desert-camo AC and nearly toppling it over this time. Instead of returning fire, the floating machine turned and began to speed away, all the while dodging repeated blasts of spreading gunfire. When that halted, it was immediately replaced with straight-line, high-calibre blasts from some _other_ kind of weapon. It was only when the machine was far off in the distance, trailing thick, black smoke that the firing finally ceased, bringing silence to the wartorn desert again.

"Jesus…" Zwei muttered, slowly looking leftwards. The menacing, midnight-blue form of AC Guyver to his left lowered both arms, white smoke wafting from its two guns. The machine turned on one heel, its red monoeye glaring down at Zwei.

"_**You okay, kid?" **_The voice of Guyver's pilot boomed down, as calm and stable as ever.

"Huh, hardly," Zwei said in a low tone, dropping to a sit. "Why'd you help me? I thought that observers couldn't interfere."

"_**Kid, your mission said **__**'Raid Supply Convoy'," **_AC Guyver fully faced Zwei and his mangled AC now. _**"There was absolutely nothing that said you had to fight an AC. I know the statistics… enough nuggets die because of unexpected crap on otherwise clean missions."**_

Ah, so Zwei hadn't been wrong in his assumption. Well, he wasn't eligible to be a part of those statistics anymore, but it was nice to know his guess was right.

"_**Besides, it'd be**__** wasted talent," **_The pilot admitted, as Guyver moved down into a kneel. _**"Even with a piece of crap like what you were piloting, you still managed to do an amazing job on the supply convoy."**_

Zwei blinked once, surprised by the more experienced Raven's words. "…Really?"

"_**Without a doubt. You might only be as good as any beginner on shooting and melee…" **_The pilot began, as Zwei listened intently. _**"But there's something in the way you evade. From what I saw, you could out-maneuver some of the veterans out there if you were given the right equipment."**_

"…Good to hear," Zwei muttered, amazed that he'd done something right. It really _was_ good to hear, after experiencing the sting of defeat by that other AC…

There was a soft whirring in the distance, as something boxy appeared in the sky, at the horizon. AC Guyver pointed at it with its shotgun-wielding arm. _**"Seems like our helo's almost here…"**_

There was a sudden crackle, as a small box strapped to the right chest-area of Zwei's grey pilot suit bleeped to life. The indifferent, female voice of his operator filtered through the emergency comm. unit. _"Mission failed, Raven. Please return to base."_

"What? What the hell?!" Zwei jumped to his feet, gripped by a new fit of frustration. He almost broke the comm. unit with the force he used to press the microphone switch. "What do you mean, I failed? The convoy's destroyed!"

"_One truck remained, Raven," _The operator responded levelly. _"You failed to meet our company's requirements."_

"_**Oh, so they've given you a corporate operator for your first run, have they? Give me a minute," **_Guyver's pilot said. There was a moment of silence on Zwei's comm. line, followed by a hiss and crackle of frequency static. Then, Guyver's pilot's voice filtered on the line, clear and crisp. _"Jacking this frequency was easier than I thought…"_

"_Who is this? You're unauthorised to-" _The operator began, but was quickly silenced.

"_Right, whatever. Try and disconnect me," _Guyver's pilot said sternly. Zwei stood silent, listening closely. _"Tell your boss that the debriefing will be postponed for one day. The Ravens' Ark will definitely authorise it, so don't waste your time lodging complaints."_

"_Are you even a member of the Ravens' Ark?" _The operator asked sarcastically. There were a few moments of dangerous silence that chilled even Zwei, who wasn't part of the exchange anymore.

"_Operator, you're treading on thin ice," _Guyver's pilot warned, in a razor-sharp tone. _"I recommend that you simply relay this information to your superiors, and leave it at that. If you need to know who I am, I was the observant of the mission."_

There was some stunned silence. Obviously, the operator knew something about Guyver's pilot which Zwei did not. Finally, the woman grated out, _"U-understood."_

The line went dead after that. Zwei looked back towards the kneeling form of AC Guyver, which still watched him with its imposing, single optic.

"…_**But you can call me Inverse, kid," **_The Raven announced on his external speakers. Strangely, Zwei felt very relieved to have discovered the man's Raven alias. _**"The way I see it, you've completed this mission fair-and-square."**_

Zwei smiled. The helo drew nearer, to take the two from their battlefield.


	5. Chapter 4: Downtime

**Armored Core: Recurrence**

_by Mr. Inertia_

**Chapter 4: Downtime**

"Huh."

Zwei sighed as he leaned forward, gloved hands wrapping around the steel platform railing as he stretched his body over to get a better view. As he tilted forwards, his pensive gaze wandered from corner to corner of the colossal working zone, noting the half-dozen ACs that stood lifeless in their massive support-clamps. He was quite surprised; for a huge AC workshop, it was pleasantly quiet.

Early evening was actually a good time to visit the Ark's main hangar, when only a handful of mechanics were on duty and the usual droves of broken-down Armored Cores had not been put into a state of damage, yet. A kind of cool, comfortable quiet had washed over the place, accented by the light background noise of small-repairs being done or even just a few mechanics chatting. It was as close a place could come to being silent, without being lifelessly quiet.

Despite his stretched posture, a figure flashed across the periphery of Zwei's vision. The young Raven quickly brought himself back behind the ledge and turned around, looking the other man in the eye. Immediately, he wanted to break eye contact from the blue-attired figure's dark-eyed, piercing gaze; he managed to resist his instincts for once, though.

The Raven was clothed in a midnight-blue pilot suit- probably a customised fibre suit- with accented points on the shoulder pads that were woven into the jumpsuit. A thin belt with two or three pouches hung lightly around the man's waist, signifying his straightforward nature. His face still bore the hallmarks of someone young and handsome… although it was obvious that some of that youth had been drained from a life of combat and hardship. His hair was generally messy and slightly too long to be considered short, which could also be said for the stubble growing on his chin and upper lip. The entirety of this telegraphed a down-to-earth, clear-cut man without secret agendas or behind-the-scenes rubbish.

Somehow, without ever seeing him before, Zwei had the feeling that this was Inverse.

"Glad to be back alive, kid?" The blue-attired Raven asked with an ambiguous grin. His voice confirmed his identity.

"Without a doubt…" Zwei said, raising his eyebrows as the events of the day flooded back to him with discomforting clarity. "I'm just worried about those Mirage execs giving me hell tomorrow."

Inverse's grin became a knowing one. "Oh, don't you worry about that one, kid. I'll make sure that every one of those arrogant bastards look like idiots by the end of the debriefing. Trust me."

A conspiratorial wink accompanied the thirty year-old Raven's last two words, before he turned on his heel and began to walk towards the exit. Zwei stood frozen for a moment, glancing back over his shoulder at the hangar floor below before he began to run after Inverse. "Wait a sec! Where're you going?"

"I'm going to get changed, and then I'll show you some places in Bayload City. Hurry up."

"But I need to tell the mechanics what to do with my AC, and-"

"Forget about it," Inverse interrupted dismissively, pressing his wrist against the door-scanner. The massive double-doors slid open fluidly. "They'll know what to do. Besides, you won't be using those useless parts for long, in any case."

Zwei allowed his imagination to run free with the possible meanings of Inverse's last sentence, as he glanced one last time down at the lineup of battered ACs to find his. Sure enough, his was the only starting-package one, hanging in the clamps like a slab of bruised meat… in all its trashed, monochromatic glory. He was going to have to find some revenue fast if he wanted to upgrade from that death-box.

Shaking his head dismissively, the young Raven stepped past the double-doors and hurried after Inverse down the corridor.

--------

"What… is this?"

The rolled-up sleeves of Zwei's dark jacket ruffled against his arms as he crossed them, his gaze focused on the building across the street that he'd pointed towards. He had to be honest; even in the dim light of the approaching nightfall, the place looked less than impressive. Besides the fact that it was obviously in the seamy side of Bayload City, it just seemed to _stand out_ amongst the other rundown apartment complexes and shops, somehow.

Inverse, however, looked upon the grotty building's exterior with some kind of mix of what seemed to be pride and familiarity, as if he was meeting an old friend who'd become rich and successful. In the few moments of silence, Zwei noted his new 'mentor's' straightforward clothing choice: a blue-leather jacket, T-shirt, grey jeans and ankle-boots were all he chose to wear. No hat, no rings, no wristbands… not even any tattoos seemed present. Only a beat-up silver watch clung to his right arm, which looked almost too old and tired to glint in the twilight.

"Well, you see my dear Nugget…" The thirty year-old Raven began with a grin Zwei was becoming familiar with, half-raising one hand to point at the shabby structure. "…Is what you will find to be your only solace as a Raven. Don't be fooled by the outside of the structure; any soldier worth his salt can tell you that Urban Camouflage _does _exist."

Zwei's brow furrowed for a moment, tapping the toe of his boot against the paving for a moment. "So, you're saying it's only dingy on the outside?"

"I think you'll come to agree with me… but!" Inverse pointed his arm straight out this time, towards the entrance. "There's all sorts loitering around the doors of other buildings. You see anyone around there, kid?"

Zwei looked sideways for a moment as he contemplated the statement. "…Point made. Civilians know to keep away. This is a Raven joint, is it?"

"Only one _I_ know of," Inverse replied with a shrug, stepping off the sidewalk and beginning to make his way across the deserted street and towards the scratched double-doors of the building. Zwei stood silent on the edge of the street for a fleeting moment, before muttering a brief "Ah, what the hell," and following Inverse inside.

The interior was nothing like the exterior.

Even from the view-hindering, cramped lobby of the club, Zwei could still see some of the extravagance that had been put into the main section of the club. Everything seemed to hit a kind of ideal medium, where no-one's tastes or preferences would be offended. Flashy neon and technological gimmicks were nowhere to be seen, and in their places were comfortable lighting and alternative forms of making the place look attractive. The furniture seemed comfortable and practical… it was almost as if it was a fragment of the past, a remnant of a more tolerant age. These days, every club and bar were dark, crystalline, refractive and above all visually harsh places that just gave Zwei headaches.

"Raven ID, stranger?"

"Huh?" Zwei muttered, blinking as he was shook from his thoughts by a cheerful voice. His eyes focused back on the middle-aged, portly man standing at the lobby door, reaching into his jacket to retrieve his ID card… and only then realised that the man was speaking to Inverse.

"Oh sure, mister, just let me…" Inverse muttered, before suddenly swinging a playful swipe at the doorman's cap-attired head, missing him by a few inches. Both were grinning. "Apex, you damn fossil! Don't pull this 'stranger' crap on me in front of the new guy!"

The man named Apex laughed Inverse's mock-anger off, turning to open the door for them. "A'right, a'right. Since when did you have a newt, boy?"

"He's not my newt…" Inverse stated flatly, although his face bore the hints of another wry grin. With one hand he beckoned for Zwei approach. "Might as well show this senile old crab your ID, kid… so at least he knows I'm not bringing in some random idiot off the street."

"Okay," Zwei responded in a quiet tone, finally pulling his card out and flashing it in front of Apex's face. The rotund man stared at it for a moment through his glasses, before turning to Inverse with a raised eyebrow.

"He only got registered today? Since when did we start showing Nuggets this place on their first day?"

"Since today, old timer," Inverse shot back, although there was definite humour in his voice. Without stepping or shifting, the brown-haired Raven reached out and grabbed Zwei by the back of his neck, gently pulling him closer. "This one might have the stuff to make it big, see?"

Zwei's eyebrows raised at Inverse's generous comment. Apex merely harrumphed as he turned to unlock the door with a gleaming blue keycard. "So what, boy? We waited a week before we showed _you_ this place… hell, not even Genobee came here on his first day. It's an unwritten rule…"

"Tough, old timer. I only consider rules that are down on paper," Inverse replied, tapping the still-locked door with the tip of his boot. "And besides, Genobee's not worth the trouble. Fool can't even cut his ties with Crest…"

There was a soft _click_, and the plate-glass door swung open neatly before Inverse. The Raven touched his hand to the side of his head and waved it towards Apex in a casual salute before he stepped through, boots clacking on the gleaming tiles. Zwei followed a moment after, scanning the laid-back, calm environment around him with a slight sense of awe. He'd been a city person all his life… he'd never seen such a moderate, pleasant place before. Inverse merely put his hands in his pockets, glancing at Zwei before slowly moving towards one of the free tables dispersed around the place.

"Welcome to Nest Two, kid."

--------

The bar was a particularly interesting place in Nest Two, seeing as Ravens from all tiers and groups of the Ark would invariably drift towards it for a drink once in a while. A general sense of respect seemed to hang over the generously-sized bar counter, even to the point of Top-ranker pilots talking to utter greenhorns without any sign reservation or disdain. That was the rule of the bar: if you stick around there, you'd better be friendly. With Inverse having moved into another room and having told Zwei just to 'have fun', the bar seemed a logical place to go.

Zwei was still only working this out as he took a seat at the replica-mahogany counter, scratching his ice-blue head of spiked hair absently while glancing down the line at some of the other Ravens. A few were loudly recounting what sounded like a recent mission with exaggerated gestures and general joking, while others just talked quietly amongst themselves. Amongst the small clumps of chatting pilots, the young Raven could make out one of them sitting by himself with his back turned to the bar, casually watching others in the room. Zwei would have suspected him to be a newbie as well, but something about his demeanour spelled that possibility out.

_He looks about as young as me… damn it, he's got body language like a veteran, though,_ Zwei thought darkly to himself, stealing another glance at the man. His skin tone was more tanned than the average fair skin tone of Bayload City, with a bluish-black mop of slicked-back, shoulder-length hair. Even the charcoal-grey trenchcoat he seemed to wear so comfortably looked utterly professional. _Maybe I should go over and-_

"Staring is sorta impolite, y'know... even in a forgiving place like Nest Two."

The hair on the back of Zwei's neck froze as the voice sounded right by his ear, catching him off-guard completely. For the second time that day, Zwei spun around to face whoever had sneaked up on him; this time, however, the newcomer was definitely not the same as before.

"…Hey there," Zwei remarked, hazel eyes scanning down and back up to see the young woman properly. First of which was her brilliantly startling hair, which hung in a short ponytail around one shoulder and almost reached her eyes with the fringe. In general, her hair started off as scarlet at the root, before darkening almost to black and then turning blue until it ended in royal-blue at the tip. Her clothes were that of a typical tomboy- tank top, tight-fitting jeans and light boots- but they were all minor details in comparison to her utterly _unnatural_ hair.

The girl smiled as she noticed Zwei's gaze, sliding into the seat next to his. "Genetically formed hair, new boy. Nothing I could, can or want to do about it."

Zwei repressed a laugh at the girl's response, turning a bit to face her properly. "Never said it was unnatural," The young Raven ruffled his own ice-blue hair to illustrate his point, while still staring at hers. "Wait a sec… how do you know I'm new?"

There were a few moments in silence during which the girl tried to restrain laughter, but ultimately gave up, penetrating the general bass of men talking with her feminine voice. In the last few days of the Ark's impersonal nature and cold atmosphere, the melodic laughter was quite calming for Zwei.

"Hehe… there's no special reason, new boy," the young woman said in an unexpectedly friendly tone, leaning forward slightly. "You just… have this 'rookie' aura about you."

"Great."

"Don't worry. It happens to everyone, and if you're lucky it'll be gone by the end of the month."

"You say it like it's some disease," Zwei muttered jokingly, eyes playfully narrowing at her. The girl smiled genuinely this time, and offered a hand suddenly.

"You don't sound nearly as stupid as the other rookies," She remarked, as Zwei returned the gesture and shook her hand. "Name's Aria, by the way. Yours?"

"Zwei," the young man replied without even thinking; it was becoming natural to accept his Raven name as his only name. He smirked slightly. "Aria sounds like a real name, girl."

Aria playfully kicked his shin, her pretty face a mixture of amusement and mock-outrage. "Yeah, well it's not, silly," She glanced over his shoulder, green eyes searching behind Zwei. "You were staring at that guy in the trenchcoat, right?"

"Yeah, I guess…" Zwei admitted, followed by a small shrug. "What about it?"

"You know who that is, right?"

Zwei blinked once, his face completely blank. "Uh… no. Should I?"

"I'd say so, yeah," Aria nodded several times, turning her gaze back to him as she crossed her hands on her lap. "He joined the Ark about three weeks ago, when I'd just finished my second month. Already, he's ahead of me in the arena rankings…"

"Geeze, he must be good," Zwei replied predictably, as a more cynical part of his mind wondered if Aria was just really bad at the Raven business. "…What's his name?"

Aria smirked, twirling a lock of her multicoloured hair around one finger.

"Evangel."


End file.
